A Little Bit Of Crazy

I had a most interesting experience the other day.

Due to mega-night terrors, insomnia and other weird nightly happenings, I found myself walking through the Psych-Health center at the largest hospital in the city. I will admit it was a little surreal.
First off I have to say, the building was very modern, clean and new. A very nice facility. That’s not the part that got me.
It was the signs over doors labelled “Day Patients”, “Mood Disorders”, etc., etc. There was also the odd person sitting on steps in the building who looked like they “belonged there”. But wait a minute...I belonged there. I was in need of help and was in the right building to receive it.
I felt awkward and just a little panicked realizing I was a client in this overwhelming structure of mental health. What if people judged me? Or were wondering why I was there? I know I was wondering why they were there. But how could they know I wasn’t “crazy”? ( I am realizing how that word is so invalid. Nailing down “crazy” is like nailing down lime green Jello. And don’t we all have a little “crazy” in us?)
I realized they couldn’t know. Just like I couldn’t know what was troubling them. And does it really matter? Isn’t the good news that there are places such as that to get help? And all of us there were getting that help?
So, after a very productive and positive appointment, and with all these thoughts rolling around my head, I went directly to take care of some more very important business. I went to the salon and got my eyebrows waxed. That makes sense right? ;)
So, as my husband told me later after sharing this humbling experience with him, I should wear my craziness with pride.  So off I went...with my craziness as my outfit and my rash-red forehead to top it off.
Now that’s style!